Darcy Branwyn

Tangled Moon (A Werewolf Romance)

…“I…” He stopped, and a shudder rolled through him; seemed to carry her along with it and she felt a burst of awareness over her skin. Her face felt warm and the air too thick to breathe. She was suddenly hyperaware that there was no bra under her sweater and the firm heat of him through it. “I can’t.”

She shook her head, wishing for not the first time that he was better at communicating himself. “Can’t what?” she asked, her throat hoarse.

His other hand pressed the small of her back, and then she was crushed mercilessly against him, her softer body forced to form to his. His fingers twitched as if with restraint against the back of her head and at her hip…